


Phil's New Prosthetic

by Persiflage



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: 3:11 - Bouncing Back, Alternate Ending, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon Disabled Character, Episode Tag, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, First Time, Older Man/Younger Woman, POV Phil Coulson, Skye | Daisy Johnson's Superpowers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-11
Updated: 2016-03-11
Packaged: 2018-05-26 03:36:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,413
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6222067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Persiflage/pseuds/Persiflage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Coulson and Daisy explore his new prosthetic hand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Phil's New Prosthetic

**Author's Note:**

  * For [zauberer_sirin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zauberer_sirin/gifts).



> This is basically a combo of alternate ending and tag fic for 3:11 - with the usual Skoulson propaganda.

"Are you okay with this?" Daisy asks as she comes to sit on the corner of Coulson's desk, like it's her spot.

"If you think it's the best thing for your team," he tells her. "You know your team better than I do."

She looks thoughtful as he gets up to fetch his bottle of Scotch and two tumblers. "I do think it's the best thing," she says as he pours. "Elena's taught herself control of her powers, and she cares passionately about the work she can do with them."

"I can see why the two of you get on," he comments, passing her one of the glasses.

She smiles up at him. "And Joey's got his powers under control too. I don't think either one of them is going to cause any trouble. And it's right they should be with family and friends, if they can be, not cooped up underground."

"And Mr Campbell?"

She shakes her head. "He says he's nowhere else to go."

"Hmm." He sits, then lifts his glass to his mouth and takes a sip, allowing himself a moment to savour the Scotch.

"The new hand looks good," she observes.

He nods. "This one's got a lot more bells and whistles. Fitz outdid himself this time."

"Can I?" Daisy asks, motioning at the new prosthetic. 

Coulson recalls the way she'd touched the old one, when she'd tried to comfort him after Ward murdered Roz, and the way he'd rejected her touch: he can see why she feels she has to ask, rather than simply touching it.

He holds out his hand towards her and she strokes her fingertips across his palm, which lights up with a gold light that follows in the wake of her fingers.

"It feels real," she observes quietly. "To me, I mean." She gives him a quizzical look, the one where her brown eyes are wide, and her head's tilted just slightly. "But to you?"

"Feels like the others," he tells her. "It's not the hand. It's me."

"Maybe you'll never get over it," Daisy says softly. "It's a big deal, losing your hand, maybe not quite as big a deal as dying and coming back, but – " She reaches out and laces her fingers through his. "It's a traumatic event, Phil – and a life-changer, like me getting my powers." She rubs her thumb across his skin, and he marvels at the sensation of warmth. "It's something you learn to live with, adjust to, and you move on, carrying it with you."

He swallows hard, a muscle jumping in his jaw. "Yeah," he whispers, his eyes locked with hers. The tip of her tongue peeks out and draws across her bottom lip, then she lifts their still-joined hands and presses her lips carefully to his knuckles. Coulson's glad that he'd already sat back down – his knees suddenly feel weak.

"Daisy." His voice cracks on her name, and she gives him a tender smile, then draws him towards her and presses her lips equally carefully to his. He can't swallow the moan of desire that escapes his throat as he feels blood rushing south to stiffen his cock. 

"Daisy," he repeats, and slips his right arm around her, pulling her body against his so that he can kiss her properly.

"Phil," she says, and slides her tongue against his before flicking it against the roof of his mouth. His cock thickens and lengthens inside his jeans, and he suddenly, desperately, wants to be naked with her.

"Not here," he mutters, and pulls back, though it's the hardest thing he's had to do all day. "My quarters."

"Yeah – that – yeah Phil, that's a good idea." She sounds breathless, he notices, and he's surprised, then wonders why he's surprised.

They leave their glasses on his desk, drinks unfinished, and he guides her, her fingers still laced with his, from his office and down the corridor to his quarters. He turns to lock the door behind them, and when he turns back around she presses him back against the door, her body plastered against his, and he can feel the hard points of her nipples pressing through her thin tank and his button-down. He groans into her mouth as she kisses him more deeply, then his hips buck forwards when she cups his cock through the denim of his jeans.

"Clothes," he mutters into her mouth as she kisses him hungrily. "Too many."

She laughs, pulling away from him, although she keeps her hand on his cock a moment longer. Then she begins unbuttoning his shirt as he grabs for her tank, tugging it free of her jeans. When he gets his hands on her skin, he pauses his touches for a moment, savouring the sensation of her bare skin against the fingers of his prosthetic, and he finds himself oddly relieved that the first time he touches her like this it's with a hand that _can_ feel things like the warmth and smoothness of her skin.

"Too slow," she tells him, and tugs at his shirt, trying to peel it off him despite the fact his cuffs are still buttoned.

"Then let me," he says quickly, and rapidly discards his shirt and undershirt. He goes for his belt buckle, but Daisy's hands are already there. He looks up and feels his jaw drop a little at the sight of her without her tank or a bra – she's breathtaking, always has been, of course, but even more so now she's an experienced field agent. He feels a strong urge to get his mouth on her broad shoulders, shoulders which seem to easily bear the weight of her responsibilities, though he knows she doesn't take those responsibilities lightly.

"Fuck, Daisy," he mutters. "You're so gorgeous."

She grins widely at him, then gets his pants unfastened. "You're pretty gorgeous yourself, Director," she says, and eases his stiff prick free. She begins stroking it, and he groans loudly, allowing his head to thud back against the door; he's so hard that his whole body aches with tension and arousal, but he doesn't try to hurry her – they've waited so long for this, or he has, anyway, that he can't rush her into any part of it.

She leans in and kisses him again as her clever, nimble fingers (which he's always loved to see at work, whether she was hacking or fighting or using her powers) twist and stroke and work him over. He feels an increase of tension and his balls tightening, but before he can open his mouth to warn her that he's about to come, she drops her hand away from his cock, and his eyes snap open in surprise.

When she sees his surprised expression she grins widely at him. "I can read your vibrations like a book, Phil. I know how close to the edge you were, and I don't want you to come until you're inside me."

"I didn't know you could do that," he tells her, amazed, awed even.

She smirks. "Me either, until now."

"But you and – " He cuts himself off before he can finish that thought, or make it a question.

She shakes her head. "Lincoln and I haven't been fucking," she tells him, clearly realising where he was going with that. "I've been waiting for you, Phil."

He stares at her. "You have?"

"Of course," she says immediately. "I've wanted you since day one, Phil, when you smirked at me from the other side of my van door."

He swallows hard. "I didn't – " He begins, then stops himself, because he's not going to lie to her. "I didn't dare want you. And it wouldn't have been fair – I know the way people would've looked at you, would've treated you if you and I were together." He flushes, dropping his gaze, then adds more quietly, "Some of them looked at you like that anyway, just because our relationship was so close."

"I know," she says simply, and his head snaps up again, and she nods. "I heard the whispers at the Hub when the South Ossetia mission was on."

"You never said," he says, surprised.

Daisy shrugs. "Why would I? There was nothing either one of us could do about it. I knew it wasn't true, and I also knew that denying it would just convince some people that it was. And you didn't need that stress when there was nothing you could do, either."

"I'm sorry," he whispers, and draws her body back against his so he can kiss her again, more tenderly this time.

She kisses him back for a bit, then her fingers curl around his wrist – the left one, and she guides his hand to the front of her jeans. "Touch me, Phil," she says, her firm tone shooting a bolt of lust to his cock.

They continue to kiss as he gets her jeans unfastened, then slides his hand, the left one since that's clearly what she wants and he can never say 'No' to Daisy, into her clothes and rubs the tip of his middle finger over her clit. She shudders, and he bites down on her bottom lip as he slips the finger lower, between her folds, then inside her; he grunts when he discovers how wet she already is, and slips a second finger inside her. It doesn't take very long for him to drive her to a shuddering, moaning climax that leaves him desperate to be inside her, but he strokes her through the aftershocks before pulling his hand free. He's startled, and then not, when Daisy grabs his wrist and brings the fingers of his prosthetic to her mouth, sucking clean the ones that were just inside her, and he wonders why he doesn't just come where he stands, because it's such an arousing image.

"Fuck, Daisy," he groans, and she smirks.

"Guess you can consider that hand broken in, now," she tells him as she steps back and begins to shimmy out of her jeans and panties, ditching her boots and socks on the way.

He can't help goggling at her for that remark, which is, he thinks, so typically Daisy, and she grins when she catches sight of his expression. Then she strips off his shoes, socks, and pants, before grabbing his hand – the left again – and tugging on his arm.

"C'mon Phil," she says, sounding very impatient. "I need you inside me, now."

They move to the bed, and she spreads herself out in the middle as Coulson pulls open the drawer of his nightstand and takes out an unopened box of condoms. As he puts one on she watches him avidly, her left hand cupping her breast while her right slides down her body to cup her mound. He kneels on the bed and she reaches for him, grabbing his elbows and tugging his body over hers, and he positions himself over her, letting her guide his cock into her sex. They both moan as he slides into her slick heat, and he prays he's not going to come too soon and spoil this.

"Phil." She sighs his name once he's buried to the hilt inside her, then wraps her arms and legs around him, pinning his body to hers as she begins kissing him in a leisurely fashion. "You feel so good," she mutters, then clenches her muscles around his cock, making him groan. 

"And you," he tells her, beginning to move with shallow thrusts that quickly build up to deeper, harder thrusts. Daisy's active beneath him, her hips bucking upwards to meet his downward thrusts, and her hands moving up and down his back before clutching at his shoulders as he drove her closer to climax.

She comes with a soft cry, and he pauses his thrusts until her inner muscles relax a bit, then he resumes, moving faster as his own climax approaches.

He comes, then all but collapses on top of Daisy, who just tightens her arms around him, holding him closer and nuzzling the side of his neck just below his ear.

"Are you okay?" she asks softly.

He swallows hard, then nods, unsure for the moment whether he has enough voice to speak. She brushes her nose against his with a soft "Hey", and he lifts his head to find her eyes are moist, and that immediately makes him feel better about his own almost overwhelming emotions.

He kisses her softly, and she kisses back, sliding her hands down to his waist, then back up again before wrapping her arms around him just below his shoulderblades. He slides his arms under her body, then rolls them so she's lying on him. She kisses him hard and fast, then lifts herself up and his softening cock slips from her; she immediately removes the condom and tosses it into his trash, then she settles back on top of him. 

"I have to ask," she begins, and he raises his eyebrows. "Are we going to keep this under wraps?"

"Do you want to?" he asks. "I mean part of me wants to tell the world, but the other part, the part that's always compartmentalised, wants to keep it on the down low."

She smiles, and he can tell she understands exactly what he means. "Same, Phil, but on the whole, I think I'd rather be discreet, for now. I want to concentrate on us being together, and I definitely don't want to listen to Hunter on the subject of us."

Coulson can't help snorting at that. "Yeah. Can't argue with that."

"I think we should shower and eat," she says in a decisive tone. "We need to keep our strength up."

"Oh?" He gives her an enquiring look, wondering if she means what he thinks she means.

She smirks at him. "Yeah. You shouldn't plan on getting much sleep tonight, Phil."

He groans, feigning a dismay he doesn't feel, and she chuckles, then lifts herself off him. "C'mon, lover boy, shower."

"'Lover boy'?" he asks disbelievingly, and this time she giggles.

"Just trying it out," she tells him, then grabs his hand – his left – and almost bodily hauls him off the bed.

As he lets her lead him into his ensuite he can't help thinking that Daisy's been turning his life upside down from the day they first met, and he suspects she's going to keep doing that – and he realises that he really can't bring himself to object or complain. He loves her after all.


End file.
